


Frostmoon

by TheTinySummoner



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Angst, Bigger plot, Cult, F/M, Fluff, Height Differences, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Psychological Trauma, Revenge, Romance, Skyrim Spoilers, Slow Burn, Werewolves, big and small, big feels, but it will also have, it got it all babyyyy, oh yeah it will get spicy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:40:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26703844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTinySummoner/pseuds/TheTinySummoner
Summary: A hunter, a bosmer, born and raised in Valenwood now finds herself in the cold lands of Skyrim.In search for revenge, she'll venture through whatever the warstriken lands have to throw at her. Wether it is;Death, deceit or pain.She'll go everything to bring it all upon the one who took everything from her all while running from her past and fate.An unlikely ally, a pale orc, exiled from his Stronghold joins her in the journey.Will they find the one responsible?Or will the hunter become the hunted?
Relationships: Female Wood Elf/Male Orc, Original bosmer character/Original orc character
Kudos: 2





	Frostmoon

**Author's Note:**

> I have complemented for a long time to write this fic, as it will be my first multiple chapter one however, I care for my ocs so much so here it finally is! Posting it before I get cold feet lol  
> In the end, despite the many errors that will be expected, I hope some will find enjoyment during this journey :)
> 
> (If there's any interest, I might post some ingame screenshots of my characters)

Gripping the fur cloak that adorned her shoulders Elenea tightened it. Despite it all, the harsh winds of the mountains began gnawing at her, down to her bones. Still, wouldn’t stop her.  
Each step her shoes disappeared down into the snow with a cracking sound that broke through the howling of the wind. Each step was heavy and cold, yet that wouldn’t stop her.  
The top of the long slope was getting closer, the setting sun was barely just hiding behind it. Huffing and puffing, Elenea’s steps quickened. She was getting closer.  
As the sun broke past the edge of the snowy hill, it blinded her for a moment. Shielding her eyes from the bright light, she let go of her cloak, allowing it to flow freely with the brisk winds. Blinking a few times, she squinted between her fingers but as her eyes adapted to the sun her shielding hand fell down from her eyes by sight of the landscape that was laid out before her.  
A landscape of snow clad mountains and lush pine forests painted in the colorful light of the setting sun.  
Nothing could stop her. Not now. Not when she was finally here.  
Skyrim.

* * *

Without lingering the beautiful landscape further, she began the descent down the mountain, sliding down the crisp evening snow. The sun was setting, and night was quickly approaching. In the distance she could see a township placed against a mountain wall. Windhelm  
Even from the mountains, she took notice to the large palace, centered in town. Grand, but it wasn’t what Elenea had travelled to Skyrim or even to Windhelm for.  
Still nothing of that would matter if she stayed put in the mountains. If she quickened her pace, she might be able to reach town, thus hopefully warmth, right after dark has settled.

However, Elenea had greatly underestimated the long, cold roads of Skyrim and so by the time she reached the great gates, the two moons had long reached the sky. Her feet frozen and cheeks were now a rosy color. Keeping her head down with the cloak far down her face, she marched through the gates and into, what she assumed was, the inn surrounded by multiple bonfires. Upon entering, the bonfires couldn’t compete with the warmth that greeted her by the door, as well as a crowded bar that she quickly made head for. As she had taken the only empty seat, an older Nord woman serving drinks to another, took note of her. The woman took her time before moving back towards the bar table, watching Elenea carefully.  
“Welcome to Candlehearth Hall. What can I do for you?” The Nord asked as she picked up a tankard from behind the counter as if she expected to be asked for a drink.  
“Just something to eat, meat if you have it…and a bed for the night if you have one to spare.”  
“We have rooms to spare and there’s some horker stew in the pot if you’ll have that. It’s still warm,” with a nod the woman turned towards the pot behind her.”  
“That’s fine.”  
With such a short answer, the woman simply shrugged her shoulders and went back to the stew.  
Once the dish was served, she put forward the gold coin without any more words and so the nord did the same. Once she had left to tend to the other guests, Elenea began poking around the stew with some distrust. The horker had an unfamiliar smell and the sauce it swam in didn’t particularly stir her appetite.

However, she hadn’t even finished examining her meal before another smell put off her appetite even further. The reeking scent of another’s alcoholic breath.  
“The steeeew not to yer liking lass?” Beside her now sat a Nord man, slurring his words as he spilt his mead over the counter. His eyes, though unfocused by the alcoholic haze, were fixated on her, roaming down her body.  
“There are better _meats_ than horker around hereee,” he leaned towards her, his breath stinking up her air. With a heavy sigh she dropped the wooden spoon and looked for the innkeeper.  
“I want my room now, if that’s alright,” she told her, ignoring the man.  
“Oh come on,” he leered as his eyes wandered down to her legs, noticing the cloak had now revealed her seemingly naked leg, adorned with red tattoos. “Ye must be cold…” he said with a sickening grin before he reached after her, but before he took hold she quickly pulled back.  
“ **Don’t.** ” Every fiber of muscles in her body froze but the golden eyes, shadowed under her hood were glaring at the man. Her heart started to pound painfully against her chest. This couldn't happen. She knew it. He had to let go or-   
“Don’t worry,” the man ignored her. “I’ll keep ye warm…” His hand reached for her again. “…and I’ll be gentle.”

However, the moment his hand took grip of her arm, Elenea grabbed his wrist and with a twist his arm was turned back against him before throwing him over his own shoulder, slamming him down to the floor with a loud bang. Silence filled the tavern. Even the music and heavy footsteps above their heads had come to a holt. The man’s wheezing and cursing on the floor was the only exception.  
“Ye….ye focking **tree-fucker**!” It was only then she noticed her cloak had fallen along with the man, releasing not only the golden hair that had been hidden away but also the long perky ears, still rosy from the outside cold. She quickly lifted the hood back up, but it was too late as most of the patrons. Carefully, she lifted her gaze towards the innkeeper, that wore a face of disgust.  
“You should leave.” With crossed arms the innkeeper stared her down.  
“But the roo- “  
“We don’t serve **elves** here. Get out.”  
For a moment she stood silent, before going towards her coin still on the counter but before she could reach for them, the innkeeper stepped closer. “ **Now.** ”  
For a split second she started back at the woman before briskly turning around to walk away.  
“Th- that’s right! Get out of our city!” The man godded as he slowly began rising from the floor. “This land is ours, maggot! And don’t ye forget!” He continued as she exited out into the cold, her knuckles white from her tightened fists.

The cold bitter air of the outside quickly took grip of her raged filled lungs. She pulled the cloak closer to her skin, moving quickly away from the door and to one of the still flaming bonfires. Holding her hands before the flame, she tried to desperately save the warmth her body still had left. Staring into the dancing flames, she sighed heavily. The rumors about Windhelm being the capital of prejudice was proven to be true. She had lost her meal and her room; Where was she going to go now?  
Her gaze moved from the strong light of the fire and upwards, allowing her head to fall back, towards the gentle light of the stars. The sky was painted by the countless stars and the colors that followed them. Everything in this country was different compared to home. The weather, the people and yet, the sky was still the same. Taking a deep breath, she felt the unrest within her slowly calm.  
The weather couldn’t beat her, just as the drunken Nords couldn’t. There were other places. She remembered seeing a stable outside the city walls. If she simply hid amongst the haystacks, then perhaps-

“Are you alright?”

The sudden voice brought Elenea from her thoughts of her coming luxurious bedding. Turning her head from the stars to a Dunmer woman, standing a few feet off from her. Despite her words of worry, her body and face alike were anything but. Arms crossed and face hardened she resembled more a bothered mother looking after her fallen child.

“I saw you exit the great Candlehearth,” she continued, not waiting for Elenea to respond. “That place isn’t for us – or well, for anyone who’s not a Nord.” Scoffing she turned her back as to walk away before glancing back at her again.  
“C’mon, you’re cold, aren’t you? It’s getting late.” And like that, she began walking off, not waiting to see if Elenea followed. However, she did. She didn’t know if she could trust her, the rest of the city had not been very welcoming. That didn’t matter much. Horses and haystacks can’t talk.

The two walked past the rowdy Candlehearth and down some icy stone steps, but as they continued down the descent, the divide of wealth between the quarters only grew until they stood in front of buildings that resembled more of stone shacks, only lit up by the hanging lanterns and the moons light shining between the tightly built buildings.

“Who have you brought in now, Suvaris? Better not be one of them Shatter-Shields.” The inside, though very of the same as the outside, was still warm. An inn, though perhaps a bar would be a better word for it.  
“Will you be quiet for once, Ambarys?” The Dunmer woman, seemingly named Suvaris, sneered back at the Dunmer man standing by the bar table. The two women walked in, Suvaris more certain than the other. “Just a poor Mer sod. Saw her thrown out of Candlehearth.”  
“I wasn’t thrown out.” With a low mutter of an objection, Elenea looked around her, finding the bar almost completely empty, with the exception of the three and another Dunmer drinking in solitude. In the end, much more to her liking compared to the past inn.  
“Oh don’t give me that child,” Suvaris waved her hand. “You might not have been physically thrown out, but I know that look of anger all too well.” Taking her seat, she looked back at Ambarys. “Now pour us a drink, will you?”  
With a shrug, he reached under the bar, pushing forward two ill-made tankards. “Well, to oblivion to them all!” He poured the tankards up. “Welcome to the New Gnisis Cornerclub.” Without anymore protests, Elenea took a seat beside the other.  
“What happened to the other?” She asked.  
“What?”  
“What happened to the old Cornercub?”  
Ambarys stared at her for a moment before giving a short snort, though she didn’t know why he would find it humorous.  
“Not from around here then,” Ambarys cleared his throat. “Well, if you’re looking for work, you’ve come to the wrong place, my friend... Windhelm isn’t for anyone who isn’t a Nord.” Taking her drink, Suvaris simply nodded with Ambarys.  
“I’m not here for work.” Elenea took her drink, taking a few sips.  
“What else could you be here for then? There’s nothing for you here.”  
Putting down her drink, she stared into his dark red eyes, finding no kinship in them.  
“The Thalmor.”

* * *

The harsh winds of Skyrim pushed against him, as Kurat pushed through the snow with heavy footsteps, each step taking him farther away from home. The snow brushing up his legs, the wind slashing against his chest and the cold biting at his lungs. None of that could ever dream to bother him. Still, somehow something did bother him, in the back of his mind.  
Swinging his sack of belongings over from one shoulder to the other.  
The air felt different, as if something was moving close to him even though he was completely alone.  
He stopped in his tracks, looking forward to the lands of cold, stretched out before him as the distant howling of wolves filled the night air.  
Something is coming.


End file.
